The Blackest, Darkest kind of Monster
by MoonstruckManda
Summary: Edward's thoughts when Bella is sleeping after their "Human Experience" in breaking dawn. TwoShot


**Hey. So I'm a bit of a fan of being in Edward's head, and I was reading Breaking Dawn today...and I thought about making this...what Edward was thinking while Bella was asleep. The second chapter will be put up maybe tomorrow, and that'll be once Bella wakes up until she gets into the shower. This, though, is just Edward's thoughts while she sleeps.**

**If you're a fan of my midnight sun continuation, I know, I'm a total whore for not updating that ... I've updated my other story, and now I'm making a different Edward Cullen story, like wth Amanda? Jeez. Keep your priorities straight!**

**SORRYYYY. But I can't help it. Complete writers block for that one, I need to get the creative juices flowing and I'm not sure how. I think I need to read twilight again, as well as Midnight Sun. :\ And maybe mine, as well, so that when I get to where I've left off, i'll be all pissed at the author, and then realize i'm the author, then slap myself across the face and start writing again ;D**

**but aaaanyways.. Here's edward!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. *Shakes head, sorrowful.* **

Jane.

Sister of Alec, important and honored member of the Volturi guard. Jane has a gift that would make any creature - human, werewolf, or vampire cringe at just the thought of it. Experiencing the fierce burning pain is nothing pleasant. She can serve to anyone the worst pain imaginable, second only to the burning of the transformation from human to vampire. And she does this all, with a smile.

Jack The Ripper.

Serial killer of women only, Jack would slit the throat of his victims - which were all female prostitutes, and continue to mutilate their bodies. He would remove their internal organs from their bodies. He was never truly caught. There was some suspicion, but nothing was ever proven. Jack the Ripper killed many women, and never paid the price for it.

Hitler.

How many people burned in giant ovens? How many people wasted away in concentration camps? How many soldiers in armies were forced to kill innocent people, and worse, how many soldiers killed willingly, following his lead? Men, women, children...Hitler's left his mark on the entire world. No one even got the chance to kill him, he killed himself.

So many monsters of the world. So many evils. So many murderers, me being one of them a long, long time ago.

So many monsters, and yet I can think of none more monstrous than I at this moment.

I look down at her, the most innocent, most beautiful - even now, covered in hideous marks that somehow screamed words of hate at me, - most unselfish...most amazing person in the entire universe. No one could compare to her. Not one person.

So many have tried to harm her. Do they not see the perfection that she so obviously is? Do they not care how important she is to the entire world's survival? If she fell, surly the world would follow soon after.

So many have tried to harm her, some succeeding, and yet I feel more monstrous than they, because I claim to love her.

I do love her. There is no hiding the fact, the certainty of what I feel. I love her with every single cell in all of my entirety.

And yet...and yet...

Here she lays, half on top of me, naked in all her glory. The only thing that covers her skin are the marks.

Those marks.

Not touching her, for I don't want to wake her and bear the hate and anger that I surely will have to endure when she does, and because I don't even deserve to touch her anymore...not that I ever did deserve such a gift, I ghost my palms over her skin, matching my unworthy hands to the hand-patterned mark across her ribs.

My face twisted. In agony? Hate? Despair? I'm not sure what. I just know that this is not my finest day.

But then, as I think about it, how is it not my finest day? How is it not the best day of my entire existence?

It is. It's just that, its been overshadowed by the worst day of my existence, the day after. Only, truthfully, they were the same day. The difference being, I didn't realize that my worst day was mybest until the day after.

The day after. When I finally came back down enough from my amazing high to see what I'd done. I'd been on a cloud ever since she fell asleep.

She had married me. Married me, Edward Cullen... unworthy, bloodthirsty vampire.

She had accepted my proposal, gone through the entire wedding. She even cried as she said the two final words, "I do." For a moment, I thought my vampire body might deceive its nature and produce the tears of happiness that, surely, I was about to shed. But no tears fell, as I did my part, repeating the words and bonding us to each other for eternity.

Or, at least, what would have been eternity, had I not ruined everything, like I always seem to do.

Last night was... everything. The worst and the best the entire world had to offer.

Bella... in my arms, under me... everywhere.

For the first time, completely clotheless - true beauty with no additions or substitutions. Natural perfection, and all mine.

Our bodies connected, we were truly together for the first time. At first, everything was so overwhelming and new and amazing, and I kept my control with an almost exaggerated gentleness, but I didn't stay that way.

I should have.

But how could anyone control themselves completely, when it was Bella they were with?

Still, there' no excuse... I will never, not in a hundred thousand years forgive myself for this.

I'm so selfish. So, so sickeningly, almost criminally selfish. To put my pleasure before her safety... how close had my teeth come to her neck before I'd quickly substituted it with a pillow?

I groaned out loud at the memory of what I was feeling at that point in time, then feared I had woken her. But she slept on.

I am the blackest, darkest kind of monster.


End file.
